Albion Anthology
by LyricalSinger
Summary: This will be a collection of (mostly short) one-shots that take place in the "Merlin" universe. Chapter 7 - Fifteen Cherubs and a Skating Park. (Note: this is a Percival/Gwaine story, so if this pairing is not your cup of tea - you have been warned)
1. Chapter 1

My response to the "Word Challenge Throw Down" on _The Heart of Camelot_ site. The challenge was to write a story from the point of view of an inanimate object, using the words 'laughter', 'apprehension' and 'delicate'.

* * *

A Father's Love

I perch at the edge of the small, rough table that sits under the high window. From here, I keep watch over my charge. I was born of a father's love for his newly-discovered son; and while the father keeps his own vigil over the young boy, I am proud to do my part.

I have seen Merlin's eyes sparkle with laughter and I have also seen fear and apprehension in those same blue orbs. I am the only connection he has to Balinor, so I am often to be found clutched tightly against a thin chest when he is upset and seeking comfort. My favourite times are the ones when I am gently cradled in delicate hands while lithe fingers trace my carved wings and whispered secrets fill my ears.

I sit at his side as he pours over his books. I am his talisman. I know the magic that lives in Merlin; I know that his destiny is great and it fills me with awe. But I also see the unsure, sometimes overwhelmed, boy that he is and I wish I could do more to ease his mind.

Still … I am a remembrance of his father and if that is to be my role, then I am happy to embrace it.

* * *

A/N: In case it's not apparent, the narrator is the carved wooden dragon that Balinor gave to Merlin in the episode "The Last Dragonlord".


	2. Visitors

My response to Narlth's challenge to use the words "torrential", "blanket" and "castle" and the story must also contain fluffy animals. Beta'ed by sarajm.

* * *

Visitors

The torrential rains had kept five-year-old Merlin stuck indoors all day and he was _bored_. Poor Hunith felt like she was losing her mind trying to keep her young son occupied and out from under her feet. It seemed that every time she turned around, there he was tugging on her dress and asking, "Why is it still raining?" or "What are you doing?" or "Mama, will you play with me?"

Normally Merlin was a self-sufficient child, able to entertain himself with his active imagination. In fact, just last week he had commandeered the blankets off both their beds to build "A castle, Mama, where we will live forever and ever, and we will have all sorts of people to look after us so you can spend all day with me. I will even have my own pet dragon!"

Hunith had smiled at her son and said, "You have quite the imagination, Merlin."

"I'm a _knight_ Mama, so you must call me 'Sir Merlin'."

"My apologies, Sir Merlin. Now, would you please be a very good knight and help set the table for dinner?"

But that was last week; today, Merlin was fractious and upset that the weather prevented him from playing with his best friend, Will. He was just gearing up for a full-on strop when suddenly Merlin grabbed his mother's hand and dragged her to the door of the cottage.

"Merlin, what are you doing?" spluttered Hunith as she was pulled away from the bread she was kneading.

"Mama, I heardeded something. Outside." Standing at the closed door, Merlin raised his finger to his lips and said, "Shhh … listen."

Hunith stood quietly, but heard nothing. She was just going to speak when, sure enough, a tiny _mmrow_ sounded from the other side of the door. Merlin looked up at his mother, his eyes wide and said, "See Mama. I told you I heardeded something."

"It's 'heard', darling, not 'heardeded'," Hunith corrected, "and you are absolutely right; there is definitely something outside, and I'm pretty sure I know what it is." She slowly opened the door and soon Merlin could see that there was a black and white cat standing in the rain and huddled underneath her were two tiny balls of fur.

"Ohhhh," breathed Merlin as he crouched down in the doorway, "it's a mama cat and her babies." Turning to look up at his mother with pleading eyes, he added, "We have to let them in Mama. They could get _sick_ in the rain."

"Well," said Hunith, "we certainly can't let that happen. You go fetch a couple of cloths and I'll make sure Mama and her babies come inside."

The mother cat was very happy to get out of the rain and it wasn't long before she and her kittens had been gently dried and settled on a blanket set close to the fire for warmth. Merlin sat beside the impromptu bed, gently stroking the cat as she fed her babies and for the first time that day, he was quiet and content.

The cat's purring was very soothing and after about ten minutes Hunith looked over to see her young son leaning back against the wall, fast asleep, with one of the kittens in his lap and the other two animals curled up against his leg.

With a grin and a quiet sigh of relief, Hunith turned back to her bread-making. If she was lucky, Merlin and his fluffy companions would remain asleep long enough for her to get the bread to baking.


	3. A Competition

A/N: My response to crshore's challenge to use the words "crenel", "capture" and "capitulate" and have a character cry/call out/weep. Huge thanks to sarajm and Donna for fixing my verb tenses and word choices.

* * *

A Competition

The four men stood at the bottom of the West Tower, staring up at the imposing stone wall and the series of embrasures that studded its face. A plan had been decided on and now it was only a matter of putting said plan into action.

It had all started at The Rising Sun. A couple of mugs of beer had led to the telling of tales, which led to boasting of talents, which logically led to a competition. No one could quite remember who had proposed the challenge, but soon enough Arthur, Elyan, Percival and Gwaine found themselves outside the walls of Camelot, staring up at the West Tower.

The challenge was simple: Each man would shoot five arrows towards the topmost arrow slit that was situated just below the row of merlons and crenels that surrounded the top of the Tower. The winner would be the one who got the most arrows through the small opening in the stonework. A difficult enough task to be sure, but it was soon made all the more demanding by Arthur's pronouncement that they would all use longbows.

The men were all well-versed in many different weapons; hand any of them a sword, a mace, a lance or a crossbow and each would wield it with skill and dexterity. A longbow, however, was a beast of a different nature. It was not a weapon commonly used by Camelot's finest and could prove to be the turning point on which the competition lay.

Elyan was up first. With his background, he figured he would win hands down, so it was with very little hesitation that he let fly his first arrow. It bounced off the wall and the lighthearted jeers of his companions filled the air.

"Hey, that was only my first try," said Elyan as he armed himself again. "This one will make it in, I guarantee."

Adjusting his stance and correcting his angle slightly, Elyan let his arrow fly towards the wall and, sure enough, it sailed through the narrow opening. "Yes!" said Elyan as he turned to his companions, a grin on his face. "I told you!" By the end of his turn, Elyan had managed to get three of his arrows through the tiny slot. "Beat that," he said to Gwaine, who was the next to try.

Gwaine tried his best, but he was unable to beat Elyan's score. "Three arrows; not bad," said the dark-haired man as he stepped to the side to let Arthur have his turn.

Grinning at his companions, Arthur said, "I'll admit that three arrows is acceptable, but just wait until I'm done. Watch and learn, my friends. Watch and learn."

Stepping up to the line they'd marked on the ground, Arthur licked his finger and held it up, testing the wind direction. At this, Gwaine snorted and chuckled, but refrained from saying anything at the look that Arthur threw in his direction. Arthur picked up his bow, notched his arrow and, taking careful aim, released the string and watched the projectile fly up and through the slit in the wall.

"Ha!" he crowed to his friends, as he lined up his next shot. Both his second and third arrows flew through the break in the stonework, though his third arrow had a bit of a wobble.

Feeling extremely confident now, Arthur let loose his fourth arrow, but he had either acted too hastily or had not released smoothly, for the arrow wobbled and wavered and then bounced off the wall.

"Careful, Arthur," said Elyan with a laugh, "now the three of us are tied."

"I'm not worried," answered Arthur. "This last one will go in, I'm sure of it." Just as predicted, Arthur's final attempt also soared through the opening.

"Four out of five!" he called, as he loosened the string on his bow and turned towards Percival. "You know," he said, "there's no shame in capitulating right now," he said to large man. "There's no way you can beat four arrows!"

While all the shooting and joking had been going on, Percival had been standing quietly to the side, saying nothing. However, if anyone had bothered to look closely at the tall, reserved knight, they would have seen a glimmer of amusement deep in his blue eyes. While the other three had been going on about their prowess with weapons, none of them had grown up with a bow in his hand. Percival had. By the time he was ten years old, he had become an expert with a bow. He had the keen eye and steady hands so necessary to be a successful archer. If anyone had bothered to ask, he would have cheerfully admitted his prowess, but since no one had … Percival simply smiled to himself as he stepped forward to take his turn.

One by one, his arrows flew through air and straight through the slit in the wall; no wobble, no yaw, just beautiful arcing trajectories. Elyan, Gwaine and Arthur stood there, eyes wide and mouths open, amazed at the talent shown by their friend.

"Well, Percival," said Arthur, "I am truly impressed. But you've not won yet, my friend. You still have one arrow and I don't think you're going to make it."

"I'll take that bet!" said Gwaine with a smirk. "C'mon Percival. I know you can do it and if you win, Arthur's buying the next round!"

Silently, the big man notched his final arrow and raising his arm, he smoothly pulled back on the string. He aimed along the arrow, adjusting slightly for the light breeze, took a deep breath and let the arrow fly.

It was a perfect moment, the kind of moment Percival wished he could capture forever. The bowstring snapped back with a _ping_ , and there was a slight _whoosh_ as the arrow left his hand and flew up towards the wall. The four men watched for what seemed like an eternity as the arrow flew up and up, heading straight towards the long, narrow opening in the stones.

Then, the arrow disappeared into the embrasure. He'd done it! With a smile of satisfaction, Percival turned to his companions and said, "I believe that's five for five!"

His friends gathered around him and offered amazed congratulations and slaps on the back.

"Well done, Percival," said Arthur. "I bow to your expertise with the longbow."

Percival laughed at Arthur's mocking bow, but before he could say anything Gwaine grabbed his arm, raised it high in the air and cried out, "To the Champion! And to the Tavern as I believe Arthur's buying!"

With laughs and in high spirits the four men made their way back through the castle gate and towards The Rising Sun. It was time, after all, to celebrate!


	4. Dare to Dream

Teej's Challenge: use the words "ominous", "lemon chiffon" and "sasquatch" and somehow involved Tierra Del Fuego. My apologies as I have absolutely no idea what this is, other than ridiculous! Thanks to sarajm for the beta work.

* * *

Dare to Dream

Gaius and Alice were seated close to the fire in Gaius' chambers, enjoying a warming cup of tea and reminiscing. They were speaking of a time long before the ominous clouds of fear and hatred overcame their lives and forced Alice to leave Camelot, and Gaius, presumably forever.

That evening was not a time for such dark thoughts; rather, through an unvoiced agreement, they kept their conversation light and spoke of brighter days and the follies of youth.

"… and do you remember the time that Jalen mispronounced _scéawere_ and instead of the goblet rising off the table, every dog that came within ten feet of him seemed to fall instantly in love with him!" said Gaius with a laugh.

Alice giggled and said, "Oh, my goodness, that one was typical Jalen. If I remember correctly, he said something that sounded vaguely like 'sasquatch' and it didn't matter how many times you made him repeat it, he _still_ got it wrong."

Gaius grinned at his old love and said, "My personal favourite was when he was trying to convince Anwen that the Welsh village of Ty Rhyd Dyffryn was actually pronounced 'Tierra Del Fuego."

"Poor Anwen; she was incensed. And Jalen's comment that 'just because you grew up near the village doesn't mean you are pronouncing the name correctly' was the topper," said Alice. "You know, I can't remember Arwen ever speaking to Jalen after that incident."

While Alice was speaking, Gaius was gazing at her with her hair golden in the firelight. It was such a joy to see her again; her presence was like a balm to his soul. And she was still so lovely. Seeing her sitting in his most comfortable chair, a shawl the colour of lemon chiffon draped around her shoulders, sent a pang of longing through him.

 _Maybe this time things can be different_ , he dared to think. _Maybe this time she can stay_. Taking another sip of his tea, Gaius watched his former love and dared to dream.


	5. Dinner is Served!

The challenge from Ms. Percival was to use the words "boar", "porridge" and "toothsome" and have someone cooking. Hope you like it, my dear!

* * *

"Look," said Arthur as he stirred the contents of the pot that was suspended between two sticks over the campfire, "it's not my fault that our supplies were ruined by the mother boar and her three piglets that came barreling through here while we were out hunting. How was I supposed to know that she'd jink and take off to the left … and end up racing right through our camp site?"

"Besides," he continued, "I notice that not one of you managed to get close enough to get her to change direction. So, no complaints; it's porridge for dinner!"

While Arthur was hunched over the cookpot, Leon and Gwaine were sorting through the various pieces of bedding that had been trampled into the dirt, Percival and Lancelot were trying to sooth the still-anxious horses and Elyan was sorting through the remains of their supplies in the hopes of finding something still edible.

"Food's ready," called Arthur as he proceeded to spoon the admittedly pathetic-looking dinner into their bowls.

The knights and Arthur seated themselves around the fire and they all stared dejectedly at the grey goop that filled their bowls. It seemed that Arthur managed to ruin something as simple as porridge.

Gwaine picked up a spoonful of the gunk and turned it upside down over the bowl. It hung, suspended in the air, for several long moments before it finally fell with a loud _plop_ back into the bowl.

"Um … Elyan," said Lancelot as he poked at his dinner, "you didn't by any chance find anything we could add to this to make it more … toothsome?"

"Sorry Lance," responded Elyan, "but everything is ruined. You're just going to have to eat it as is."

"It's not _that_ bad," snapped Arthur as he picked up his own bowl and proceeded to shovel a large spoonful of porridge into his mouth. He chewed for a few moments, grimaced and then swallowed it down, rather manfully he thought.

"Okay, it _is_ that bad!" he said with a chuckle, as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

Arthur began snickering at the absurdity of the whole situation and soon all of them were howling with laughter. Percival was wiping tears from his eyes as he watched Gwaine fall backwards, clutching his stomach and giggling like a loon. Lancelot's eyes sparkled with joy and Elyan snorted as he tried to catch his breath. Even Leon, usually the most composed of them all, lost control and joined in the merriment.

As the six of them lay on the ground, trying to catch their breath and occasionally still snorting in mirth, Arthur said, "Well, this is the last time I let Merlin stay home. At least his porridge is edible!"

The surrounding forest rang with renewed laughter.


	6. Patience is a Virtue

One of my reviewers, Aaronna, asked if I could write a story using the words "pasty", "feral" and "snuggle". Aaronna, this is for you; I hope you like it!

* * *

Patience is a Virtue

Merlin snuggled under the blankets that covered his small bed. Autumn had finally arrived and had brought both bitter cold and brutal winds. The temperature had dropped throughout the night and while it wasn't cold enough that he could see his breath, Merlin's nose felt quite chilly. He hiked the blankets higher up over his head and curled into a small ball, preserving the warmth that was captured under his covers.

He had to get up soon, but a few more moments of leisure wouldn't harm anyone, least of all the minor noble that he had been serving the past few days. Comfortable in his warm bed, Merlin's thoughts travelled back over the past week's events.

Camelot would be hosting with a Northern noble and his retinue, who would be arriving to discuss a new trade agreement, and Arthur had expressly asked that Merlin look after Lord Eldridge.

At first, Merlin had been honoured by the request.

However, standing at Arthur's side almost a week ago, ready to greet the nobleman, Merlin quickly became aware of many looks of pity that were being sent his way by some of the other servants in the castle.

He didn't quite understand, until he actually met the man he would be serving. Lord Eldridge was a short, balding, pasty-faced weasel of a man with a laugh like a donkey and no redeeming characteristics at all. He was rude, inconsiderate, obnoxious and, above all, disrespectful to both Arthur and Camelot. Now, the looks of pity and the whispered comments of "He won't be here long, Merlin" began to make sense!

Merlin had been Arthur's manservant long enough to have learned that not everyone treated their servants with the same consideration as did the Royal Prince, but Lord Eldridge's behaviour was simply unacceptable. Merlin could deal with being treated as part of the furniture or yelled at as incompetent; what he did not appreciate was being dismissed and treated as a lesser human being. He may be a servant, but that didn't mean that he wasn't still a man and entitled to some respect.

But no; it soon became obvious the word "respect" was not in Eldridge's vocabulary.

Instead, Merlin spent the length of his days running after Lord Clotpole (as Merlin referred to him in his head), bowing and scraping and answering to the feral roar of "Boy! Get your lazy arse in here." Honestly, the man was incapable of doing anything for himself. In fact, Merlin was beginning to fear that he'd eventually be required to brush the man's teeth for him … and then get yelled at because he was doing it all wrong!

But, he knew the importance of the meeting, so for Arthur's sake Merlin gritted his teeth, smiled falsely at the annoying prat he was presently serving and did everything he could to ensure that Lord Eldridge had nothing to complain about.

There was one small glimmer of light, however, that kept Merlin going through these frustrating days. Late on the second evening of Lord Eldridge's visit, Arthur had managed to pull Merlin to the side to exchange a few quick words with his servant. Not only had Arthur sympathized with the frazzled young man, he had also promised that once the agreement was signed and Eldridge had departed Camelot, he would make it up to Merlin.

And so, the torment continued and Merlin was convinced by the end of the third day that he'd cracked at least two teeth from the way he was continually clenching his jaw. Still, he knew that Arthur was counting on him, so he vowed to keep his emotions, and his comments, in check.

After almost a week of negotiations, an understanding was reached and the trade agreement was to be signed that morning. Following the signing, there would be a celebratory feast and then, finally (and not soon enough in Merlin's books), Merlin could wave good-bye to Lord Eldridge's backside as he rode though Camelot's main gates.

That thought put a smile on Merlin's face. In fact, it made him cheery enough to hop out of bed, pull on his clothes and head down to the main room where he could hear Gaius puttering about.

"Good morning, Gaius," chirped Merlin as he strode over the cook pot and gave the porridge a stir.

Gaius looked up from the loaf of bread that he was slicing and said, "Merlin, you're in a good mood this morning."

"How could I not be? Today Arthur and Eldridge sign the trade agreement and by dinner time that … _louse_ … will be gone. I tell you Gaius, one more day of kowtowing to that arrogant idiot and I will not be responsible for my actions!"

Gaius chuckled at his ward's comments and said, "It's almost over, Merlin, and you have been most patient with our guest. Besides, you know Arthur truly appreciates all you've done these past few days."

"I know, Gaius; that's the only reason why I decided not to stuff Lord Clotpole's saddlebags with fish heads and watch as all the cats in Camelot chased him and his retinue right out the main gates!"

Gaius laughed aloud at that visual and, with a twinkle in his eyes, said, "Merlin, considering what you've been through this past week, I wouldn't blame you in the least if you actually went through with it!"


	7. Fifteen Cherubs and a Skating Park

A/N: This is my first Perwaine story - a gift for the wonderful Mrs. Percival. I hope you enjoy it!

Betaed by the always amazing sarajm.

* * *

Fifteen Cherubs and a Skating Park

Percival and Gwaine had been friends from the moment they met as rambunctious ten-year-olds. Their friendship had deepened over the years, but it was only when they were separated by a continent that they realized that they both wanted something more. Phone calls and Skype kept them going during the semester Percival spent in Japan teaching English, but once his contract was up, the tall blond was on the next plane home to Gwaine.

Now, five years on, Percival felt the time was right to take their relationship to the next step. They already lived together, shared everything including a bank account, and Percival could not imagine a life without Gwaine. As much as he loved calling Gwaine his boyfriend, he really wanted to be able to introduce the sexy brunet as "my husband."

Percival had planned his proposal down to the last detail. On the last day of school before the Christmas holidays, Percival was taking his class down to the local outdoor rink for an afternoon of ice skating. A gang of fifteen eight-year-olds was a little much for Percival to handle on his own but fortunately Gwaine wasn't scheduled for a shift at the fire station that day, so he'd volunteered to help out.

Percival had gotten his students involved in his plans, as well. Once they were done for the afternoon, each child would hold up a card with a letter on it. Assuming the kids didn't forget their place in the line, the cards would spell out _Gwaine, Marry Me_.

One of his students was quick enough to realize that the sentence only had "thirteen letters, but there are fifteen of us, Mr. Percival."

"Don't worry, Chris, and clever of you to notice," said Percival. "I've given Alexa and Maya the job of keeping Gwaine busy and then bringing him over to us when its time."

The afternoon was glorious. The sky was a bright blue and though it was cold, everyone was warmly wrapped with scarves and gloves, so no one really noticed the chill. The kids were having a blast, some zipping along the ice at great speed, while others still wobbled a bit but managed to stay upright. Gwaine was at the far end of the ice teaching Alexa and her twin sister Maya how to skate, while Percival split his time between anxiously checking his pocket to make sure he hadn't lost the ring, checking to make sure his backpack with its precious cargo of cards was exactly where he'd left it and trying to rein in the more exuberant children.

Gwaine was still busy with his two charges when Percival decided, _it's time_. A quick whisper to Jack, who was skating by, and in under two minutes there were thirteen children gathered around Percival, whispering and giggling with excitement.

"All right, you remember where you're supposed to stand?" asked Percival as he handed out the cards. Being a teacher of small children, he'd learned not to leave anything to chance so the back of each card held the name of the child who would hold it up.

A chorus of "Yes, Mr. Percival," sounded as the children giggled and shuffled around. When everyone was in place, Percival turned to Jack, by far the best skater in the class, and said, "All right, Jack. You're up. Would you please go get Gwaine and the girls, and then come right back. I'll hold your card for you. The rest of you, try not to look so much like you're standing in a line waiting for the bus!"

Jack was off like a shot and Percival watched out of the corner of his eye as the young boy held a quick conversation with Gwaine and then sped back along the ice.

Eyes sparkling with delight, he quickly grabbed his card and made his way to his spot in the line.

Gwaine was slowing skating across the rink with Alexa and Maya each clutching one of his hands and Percival could hear him encouraging the girls. "Look how great you're doing," he said. "I can't believe this is the first time you've been on skates!"

They came to a stop in front of the line of children. "What's all this?" asked Gwaine. "I was told there were cookies being handed out."

The children snickered but held their places. "Now," called Percival as he slowly skated towards his love. The children each pulled a card from behind their backs and Gwaine watched in amazement as the cards were flipped over. The words _Gwaine, Marry Me_ appeared before him and looking down, he saw Percival was now kneeling in front of him, holding a small, suede-covered box.

A grin appeared on Gwaine's lips and his eyes shone with unshed tears as he let go of the girls' hands. Leaning down, he grasped Percival's upper arms and pulled him to his feet. "You wonderful, amazing, _incredible_ man," he said as he pulled Percival in for a kiss.

A chorus of "Eeewww" and "Yuck!" was enough to remind the two men that they had an audience, and they quickly broke apart, laughing and blushing.

Suddenly a small voice was heard saying, "But Mr. Gwaine, you didn't say yes." Looking down at Maya, who was now giving him a very concerned look, Gwaine laughed and said, "I do believe you are correct, Maya." Turning back to Percival he said, "Of _course_ I'll marry you. Whenever and wherever you want!"

The two men stood there holding hand and grinning at each other like idiots while the kids jumped up and down and cheered.

"I love you."

"I love you, too."


End file.
